I shook my head. “No one even knew we were going out. How did they know we were gonna be there? Didyousee anything?”
She shrugged, her eyes pensive as if she was trying to remember…
Boom!
I jumped at the loud thud outside. It wasn’t a bullet. It was a hit or a bang on the door.
Life drained from Lucy’s face, and she looked like she was about to cry. I motioned for her to shut up and stand behind me. Steadying my breath, I unlocked the safety and pointed the gun at the door.
Another thud. Heavy footsteps followed. Then, suddenly, Mario cried.
No, nononono! I stared at Lucy, gesturing for her to shush him. She was rocking him already, but he wouldn’t shut up. I, too, tried, one eye at him, the other at the door. “Please, baby, please,” I whispered.
“Pa-pa-pa-pa,” Mario cooed.
I glanced at Lucy, nodding at the bathroom, and mouthed, “Get inside.”
Holding my breath, I aimed at the door and waited.
Thud. Thud!
Not this time, you fucker. Not this time.
“It’s me, Bianca. It’s over. Open up.”
I allowed myself to breathe and swore. Then I dashed to the door and carefully opened it. A gasp ripped from my throat when I saw the one-eyed guard holding Enzio, my husband’s bleeding arm dangling over the guard’s shoulder.
“Get him on the bed,” I told the guard, opening the door wide. “Where’s Alfio?”
The guard shook his head at me as he laid Enzio on the bed.
“What do you mean? Is he not back yet?”
“He’s dead,” Enzio mumbled.
“Oh my God.” I ran into the bathroom, telling Lucy it was okay to come out now and asking her to help me find some scissors.
She found a pair in a drawer, and I used it to cut Enzio’s shirt, the amount of blood coming out of his arm and covering his chest worrying. “How many bullets did you take?”
“Uno. The first shot that hit me in the arm.”
“That’s not possible. Blood is oozing out of your arm. It must have hit an artery. We need to get you to a hospital.”
“No.”
I examined his flesh, looking for an exit wound. When I found none, I used the shirt to tie up the wound as hard as I could to stop the bleeding. “The bullet is still inside and you’re bleeding like fuck. If you don’t go to a hospital, you’re gonna die.”
He hissed in pain as he sat up. “And you care?”
“Enzio…”
A pale smirk curved the corner of his mouth. “I’m not gonna die, dolcezza. Not yet.” He asked the bodyguard about someone in Italian. The man fished his phone out of his pocket and exited without a word.
“Please tell me you told him to bring a doctor.”
“Yes. We’re sailing to where he’s at. He’ll be waiting for us. It’s gonna take a couple of hours, though.”
“What? You’re gonna bleed out way before that! Is anybody left here even qualified to drive this thing?”
